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HEART PANGS 



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HEART PANGS 



BY 



MAGDALEN COOKE 




THE NEALE PUBLISHING COMPANY 

440 FOURTH AVENUE, NEW YORK 
MCMXVII 






Copyright, 1917, by 
The Neale Publishing Company 



MAY 14 1318 
©GI.A494997 



TABLE OF CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Heart Pangs 7 

World Outside my Prison Window ii 

If I Had only Known 12 

Old Lonely Oak 13 

The Roses THAT Came too Late 15 

Unyielding Heart 16 

In the Gloaming 17 

Evening Shadows 18 

Because of You 18 

"He Cometh Not," She Said 20 

Mother 21 

Just for To-night 22 

Your Little Girl 23 

My Rose by the Garden Wall 24 

Boys' Troubles 25 

The New Girl at School 26 

Violets in Dew 28 

Perfect Love Can Never Die 28 

I Love You 29 

A Traitor's Worth 31 

Caught in the Snare 32 

V 



VI TABLE OP CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Queen of my Heart 

^^ 

A Letter to Santa 

Little Brook . . 

35 

Kind Old Ben . . 

,^ 36 

Man 

3S 

War Clouds . . 

39 

Does It Matter to You? 

41 

Our Jewel . 

42 

BiLLiE Boy and Joseph 

43 



HEART PANGS 



Readers^ did any of you ever lie helpless year after 
year, with no one on whom to depend, — your sole sup- 
port, a husband, having been taken from you a few months 
after your bodily affliction came to cripple you ? If so, — ^ 
or even if not, — ^you will, if your heart be tender, feel full 
of pity for me when you shall have read this brief sketch 
of my young life. 

I am a Southern girl, — "Bred in old Kentucky,'' as 
the song goes. Never in all my life was I entirely free 
from pain, but it was not until I was sixteen that the 
worst of my woe began. At that time I was injured by 
having my head mashed by a huge cellar door, — a mis- 
chance that put me on a bed of endless pain and that 
nearly deprived me of life. However, I did live (though, 
alas! 'twas only to undergo the intolerable, never-ending 
torture of a lingering living death), doomed to suffer 
heartbreak after heartbreak. 

But to go back to my story: Just as soon as I could 
be up, after a years illness , my footsteps turned to the 
great munitions factories at King's Mills, Ohio, — for, be- 
ing very poor (though my father's had been a very wealthy 
family residing in Baltimore, Md.), I was compelled to 
earn my living, — and in course of time I became a shell 
inspector. 

During my stay in Ohio I met my fate: a young man 
whom I soon learned to adore as he did me. He insisted 



8 HEART PANGS 

that we be married soon, and after considering the ques- 
tion from all viewpoints, and being, as I supposed, on the 
road to health, I at length yielded to his plea. 

And so, we were married. 

Ah, dark marriage morn ! From that day my troubles 
began; my health failed quickly, and in a little while I 
could only crawl about. Despite the hopeless pain, I 
would get about, for I was determined to keep house 
for my husband, so that he would not grow to look upon 
me as a burden, even dislike me. The flowery path I had 
hoped to tread was filled with piercing thorns, the prim- 
roses were all dead, — ^yet I hoped on. 

No one, however sympathetic, can ever understand how 
I loved my young husband; no one can ever understand 
how my heart broke the day I lost him, — especially as this 
happened at a time when I had been utterly helpless for 
some months, unable at length even to crawl about in 
performance of work for the one I loved. 

Shortly afterward I was carried out of my little home 
that I had entered a girlish bride, placed in a jolting 
baggage car, and taken many, many miles back to Ken- 
tucky. Had I never gone there I might have recovered 
in part from my sickness; but the trip and the treatment 
I received when my little boy came into the world put 
me where I am to-day, — on a bed of torture, where I 
have now lain for almost eleven weary years. I have 
one of the finest bone doctors in Pennsylvania, and we 
are fighting so hard to get me on my feet. 

Ah, how I long to be out in the world ! No one that 
has not borne a similar affliction can ever realize the heart 
pangs that come as I gaze out of the window at a tree 
top, longing, with eyes full of blinding tears, to feel the 
grass beneath my feet just once again before the end shall 



HEART PANGS 



come. Read *'01d Lonely Oak'\- that is I as a child; 
while * 'World Outside my Prison Window" is I as I am 
to-day. 

But that is not all my woe; sometimes it seems that 
it is but the genesis: For three years after my babe was 
born I was totally blind, while for six years after that I 
could see but a glimmer. 

I have no way to support myself, my baby, and my 
mother (who is with me) other than by the proceeds 
from my poems and songs, with which I have had some 
success. I am on the staff of The David Music Pub- 
lishing Co., Inc., and have a song on the market, entitled 
"Because she is Mother," and many other songs of mine 
are ready for publication. Should the tide of fate ever 
turn, should I ever be on my feet again, it will be because, 
by buying my books and songs, the public has aided me 
in my fight against Fate, — that grim, relentless monster 
that follows me as does a hungry wolf its prey. I know, 
though, that with the help of my readers I shall conquer. 
Dear Readers, won't you help me to regain a part of the 
joy of life? Only a part, — for my loved one can never 
again smile on me ; my boy will never hear a noble father's 
voice say fondly: "My treasures, — my wife and child!" 
but, oh, to feel once more the delight of walking in the 
beautiful world! 

It is my helplessness that is so insupportable; I have 
even been able to smile for years through bitter pain, ter- 
rible though it is to suffer so. Oh, to be able to work 
for the comfort of my mother and child ! However, help- 
less though I am in a physical sense, my little poems 
sound through my senses, and here I have set them down 
in a little book, — the only work now possible to me. And 
may this work, dear Readers, find favor in your eyes; 



10 HEART PANGS 

may it bring to you a message and to me the means of 
easing my suffering and of making my life's lot lighter. 
Should this book fail of its purpose, and Fate proclaim 
her victory over dauntless courage, then breathe, I beg, 
these lines for me: 

She died like a hero, her face to the foe. 

Her courage undaunted, despite all her woe. 

The years were so endless, 'twas futile to fight; 

The night was so dark, — how she longed for the light! 

'Twas too long in coming. Ah, bury her low — 

The struggle was useless; relentless the foe. 

To you that have hearts, — real hearts, full of love and 
sympathy, — I affectionately dedicate this book, with the 
hope that you, who can "feel another's woe," and are 
good and kind (as I have ever tried to be), may be spared 
the bitter burden of all that I have had to bear. 
Your friend, 

The Author. 



HEART PANGS 



WORLD OUTSIDE MY PRISON WINDOW 

World outside my prison window, 

Do you ever stop and say : 
"What if I were lying helpless, — 

Broken-hearted, — day by day?" 
Do you ever see a sad face 

Peering through the window here, — 
See the smile, the mask that's hiding 

Many a blinding, scalding tear? 

Listen, World, and learn my story, — 

Just a part of it, for I 
Know full well that you love laughter 

Better far than sob or sigh: 
Once I was a fair young girl, World, 

Full of love, hope, free from pain; 
Seventeen was I, — life's springtime ! — 

Now ten years I here have lain. 

Do you ever guess the longing 

That just bursts my heart in twain, 

As I stretch my arms out to you. 
Pleading: **Let me walk again!" 

Do you ever guess the anguish 
Of a heart that, treasures gone, 



la HEART PANGS 

Feels the bitter years go dragging 
By her, helpless and alone? 

Some there may be of the thousands 

In the country or the town 
Who will say: **How can she bear it!" 

As they lay this lightly down. 
Ah, dear World, mine is not living! 

Crushed the rose ere yet in bloom — 
Oh, be grateful, you thrice happy 

Who escaped my dreadful doom! 



IF I HAD ONLY KNOWN 

If I had known that you were tired 

And lonely every day. 
If I had known that your heart ached 

When I had gone away, 
I think my own heart would have turned 

To you, — to you alone, — 
And Fd have loved you tenderly, — 

If I had only known. 

If I had known you tried to shield 

Me from all pain and care. 
If I had known your dear heart ached 

No more were I but there; 
Unheeded would have been Fame's call ; 

To your arms Fd have flown 
And gladly would have rested there, — 

If I had only known! 



HEART PANGS 13 

If I had known grim death would claim 

You when Fd gone away, 
If I had known your heart was filled 

With words you could not say, 
I would have clasped you in my arms 

And left you not alone, 
But, day and night, watched over you, — 

Oh, if Fd only known! 

If I had known the grave would hide 

That gentle smile from me. 
If I had known your one hope was 

That I your wife would be, 
I would have kept you from that grave. 

Where now you rest alone, 
While I am left so lonely here — 

O God! if I had known! 



OLD LONELY OAK 

Old lonely oak, so silent and faithful, 

Many days have I tarried beside your cool shade; 
Your outspreading branches would give me a welcome. 

While you seemed to relish the comfort you made. 

How dear were those days of light-hearted freedom! 
The years that have passed brought me grief without 
end; 
My eyes, full of tears at my thoughts, now turn toward 
you,— 
They weep for those days and your care, my old friend. 



14 HEART PANGS 

Old lonely oak, can you hear what I tell you? 

Then take heed of my message and cherish it, too : 
Remember the graves that your branches now shelter, 

And drop scarlet leaves covered over with dew. 

Remember, oak tree, how I played there in childhood, — 
The barefooted girl who did love you so dear; 

And the post office hid in your trunk, — you remember 
The pleasure it gave boys and girls who were near? 

Old oak, bend over me now in my sorrow! 

Fm lonely and sick, and I would I could die 
And be buried there, 'neath your cool, branching shadow, 

Where your leaves, green or scarlet, could over me lie ! 

Farewell to the farm and dear tree by the brookside! 

Cruel Time has borne hence all the joys that were mine. 
Old oak, you were gentle, so turn the years backward 

And make me a child again, just for a time. 

You loved me in youth ; could you know what befell me, 
Ah, the dewdrops of tears your kind heart would shed ! 

With the wind sweeping o'er you you shiver and murmur: 
"The child that I loved in her grave now lies dead." 

'Tis true : she is dead, — to all pleasures and gladness, — 
The hard hand of Destiny scourges her now ; 

The world loved her not, so she shivered in silence, — 
Her heart wandered back where your kind branches 
bow. 



HEART PANGS 15 



THE ROSES THAT CAME TOO LATE 

I STOOD beside a flowery mound 

Within the churchyard drear; 
My heart was bursting in my breast 

As I forced back each tear; 
For 'neath that mound of earth and bloom 

Was all that now remained 
Of my dear angel Mother, whose 

Fond love had never waned. 

I gazed at those white roses there, 

Whose thorns were hid from view, 
And my heart cried: "O Mother dear, 

Were thorns e'er hid from you? 
You cannot see these blossoms, dear. 

I wonder if you know 
That your own girl is close by you — 

O dear, I love you so ! 

**My darling, I am kneeling now, 

My tears, like sparkling dew. 
Are falling on the lovely flowers 

That closely cover you ; 
The thorns are piercing my heart, dear ; 

For, oh ! I wish to-day 
That I had given you the flowers 

Before you went away. 

"O Mother, listen, — listen, please! — 

Fve loved you every day, 
Though I knew well how your heart ached 

When he coaxed me away. 



i6 HEART PANGS 

But, you'll forgive me, Mother dear ;- 
Though I now weep in gloom, 

Fm coming soon to meet you where 
Eternal roses bloom." 



UNYIELDING HEART 

I TELL my heart: "Pray change your love; 

You have no right to be 
Thus ever longing so for one 

Who cares no more for me. 
Turn to the one whose love is true, — 

Whose greatest joy in life 
Would be to have you for his own 

Through pleasure, pain, and strife." 

"I will not yield," my heart replies. 

'*My treasure I must hold 
Close up against this throbbing pain. 

My love can ne'er grow cold." 
"Fm tired of life, bereft of love; 

I would that I might roam 
The path my darling treads to-night, — 

Where he is, there is home!" 

"Your lips are false," my heart then cries, 

"For, ah ! you love him, too. 
You know you hunger for his smile, — 

His eyes of tender blue. 
Go, search the world and bring him back. 

Without him, life is o'er; 
And you and I must e'er weep here, 

Upon a loveless shore." 



HEART PANGS 17 



IN THE GLOAMING 

As I sit alone in the gloaming 

My thoughts fly outward to you. 
Fm lonely and weary at heart, love, 

And I know that you're lonely, too. 
The miles that stretch onward between us 

My pen only, beloved, has spanned ; 
Yet, what are a few written words, love. 

When I long for the touch of your hand? 

But, hark! there's a tap on the window. 

I fly to open it wide. 
Oh, joy fills my heart to overflowing! 

My loved one is standing outside. 
Did you fly, with my thoughts as your guide, dear?- 

I have longed for your presence all day. 
The hours are so long, — sadness reigns, love, 

All about me when you are away. 

Cling close to my hand, O my loved one! 

I fear you will vanish, — ^will go 
Out into the darkness that held you 

Ere you entered a moment ago. 
My heart ever clings to your side, dear; 

I need it when you are away; 
And so, I shall die very soon, love, 

Unless you will promise to stay. 

Ah! what are those words that you whisper? 

You will stay till death takes your last breath? 
Ah, then you will nevermore leave me 

Until we both lie still in death ! 



i8 HEART PANGS 

So, shut to the window again, dear,-— 
My thoughts do not now wish to roam; 

For close in your dear arms to-night, love, 
They rest, with my heart, safe at home. 



EVENING SHADOWS 

Evening shadows, softly falling, 

Touch my heart and bid me roam 
From the clanging, tedious city 

To my peaceful country home; 
To a mother old and feeble. 

Who is watching for her boy; 
To a father who has taught me 

Truth and faith would bring me joy. 

Evening shadows, softly falling. 

On a Sunday bid me go 
To a little rose-trimmed cottage, — 

To the sweetheart I love so. 
There a loving smile awaits me 

As I whisper: "My own dove!" 
Evening shadows, softly falling. 

Bring before me all I love. 



BECAUSE OF YOU 

Because of you bright flowers bloom. 
And clouds have taken flight; 

Because of you my life is changed 
From darkness into light. 



HEART PANGS 19 



I love you, dear, with all my heart, 

And I shall e'er be true; 
My hours are joyful day and night, — 
Because of you. 

I wonder how my life was borne 
Before you crossed my path; 

I sometimes shudder at this joy 
That seems too great to last. 

Because of you the glad birds sing: 
They seem to love you, too; 

The whole wide world is brighter now,- 
Because of you. 

Because of you I sit and dream 
Where once my teardrops fell. 

No pain can venture near my dear 
While in your heart I dwell. 

And, if by chance grim sorrow came, 
'Twould vanish at your kiss; 

Because when you are near me, dear, 
E*en shadows seem like bliss. 

Old age can never find me now 

Should you ne'er go away: 
For love will keep me youthful, dear, 

Though I be pale and gray. 
Because of you death will be sweet, — 

For death would claim me, too: 
The grave will not seem lonely, dear, 
Because of you. 



20 HEART PANGS 



"HE COMETH NOT," SHE SAID 

I DO not say: "Come back to me!'' 
You would not come : you told me so ; 

Still, how I long your face to see, 

My dear false love, youll never know! 

I see again the manly form 

Of you, whose heart I could not see 
Was growing colder every hour, — 

I do not say: "Come back to me!" 

How could I tell you to come back? 

The you I thought you were is dead, — 
Was buried on that day you left 

Me lying here, with all hope fled. 

I wonder if you ever see 

The face of her, your stricken bride? 
Or if you find that love can be 

Far stronger, dear, than woman's pride. 

I do not ask you to return; 

And yet, my love, I need you so ! 
I wonder if you ever yearn 

For the dear days of long ago. 

O grave of love, of faith, and hope, 
Give up your dead and ease this pain! 

My heart cries out its sobbing note. 
My tears are falling like warm rain. 



HEART PANGS 21 

Would you come back from out your grave, 
If death should claim your one-time bride, — 

Or let my form be buried low, — 
No weeping loved one by my side? 

Come back! Ah me! — my hearths weak cry 
For many years, dear love, has been 

A plea so piteous that I 

Forgive you, dear one, for your sin. 

My eyes grow dim, my hands are cold. 

Can this be death ? Ah, yes ; 'tis he. 
Come far to clutch me in his hold 

Because you would not come to me! 

"O laggard Death," I, parting, cry; 

"I loved him better than he knew; 
But he has left me all alone, 

And thus he yields me unto you !" 



MOTHER 

Why do I love her, you enquire? 

Young man so cold, can you ask me why? 
Had you not one whom you cherished and loved 

In days that are now gone by? 
She may be old, she may be ill, 
She may be nearing the end of life's hill, 
But as long as a part of her remains 
We are bound to her by love's gentle chains, — 
Because she is Mother. 



22 HEART PANGS 

Because she is Mother she is precious as gold, 
More dear to my heart than riches untold; 
Though she may be near, or far, far away, 
Fast locked in our heart she is held, — there to stay. 
So we cling ever closer, and cherish her, too, — 
Very few old-time lovers could love as we do. 
We wish her to have all her white roses now. 
Not place them, too late! above her cold brow: 
Because she is Mother. 



JUST FOR TO-NIGHT 

One little shoe worn out at the heel, 
One little wagon that's minus a wheel. 
One little drum with stick thrown away. 
One little hobbyhorse, one little sleigh, — 
Dear broken playthings, you cause no more joy 
Unless you can bring back my dear baby boy. 

Dear laughing eyes now closed in death's sleep, 
No more your watch over toyland youll keep ; 
Come to my arms, dearest treasure of all. 
Wipe every tear away fast as they fall. 
With your dear hand put the sorrow to right. 
Make Mother happy, — if just for to-night. 

No more FU see you so busy at play. 
Nor hear your voice ringing happy all day. 
Oh, just once more one fond kiss to keep 



HEART PANGS 23 

All through the night, — then poor Mother might sleep ! 
Come to me, darling, and make the gloom bright; 
Cuddle up closely, — if just for to-night! 



YOUR LITTLE GIRL 

As the moonbeams round me linger, 

Mother dear, I think of you, 
And I wonder if you miss me, — 

Mother dear, so kind and true. 
Oh! I long to come for counsel 

When my head seems in a whirl, 
And to hear you softly call me 

Once again your **little girl." 

Mother dear, poor Dad seems different 

Now that you have gone away; 
He is with those men at Ranger's, 

Mother dear, 'most every day. 
If you'd only come and whisper 

That you're sad since you have known 
How he drinks and leaves your girlie 

Every day here all alone. 

For, alas! how big and silent 

Is the house now. Mother dear ! 
How I cry all day, all night, too, — 

Wishing I could have you here ! 
Oh, why don't you send an angel 

Here to close my eyes in death? 
Let me come to you, dear Mother, 

Where no sorrow lingereth! 



24 HEART PANGS 



MY ROSE BY THE GARDEN WALL 

I PEEPED across my garden wall 

One early morn in June, 
And noticed there, — so sweet and tall ! — 

A wild rose at full noon. 
I drew it gently down to me, — 

This rose so pure and fair, — 
And whispered: *^Rose, TU guard yon safe, — 

Will shield you from all care." 

But as I thus was vowing love 

And fealty to the rose, 
I spied a flower more lovely yet, 

With far more stately pose. 
I thrust the rose from my embrace; 

I clasped the lily white, 
And cried: *^0 flower so wondrous fair, 

Bloom always in my sight!'* 

Then I my rapt gaze upward turned 

Unto my rose once more, — 
The petals were all withered now; 

It bloomed not as of yore. 
Then, strange to say, with aching heart, 

I cried: **I love you best 
Dear rose, come to my garden wall 

And lean upon my breast!" 

My cry was vain, for nevermore 
My loved rose near will be; 



HEART PANGS 25 

And the pure lily, once so sweet, 

Looks fair no more to me. 
I only long for the first flower; 

'Twould fill my heart with bliss 
To greet my garden walFs wild rose 

With just one rosebud kiss. 



BOYS' TROUBLES 

Fm sore all through, — that's what I am. 

You needn't ask me why. 
Fd go and jump in the muddy pond. 

If I thought that I would die; 
For what's the use of livin'? 'Tain't 

No fun to work, and so, 
I guess FU put some clean clothes on 

And to the pond FU go. 

But now I come to think of it, 

I know the pond won't do: 
Fd choke to death, and my nice suit — 

You'd never know 'twas new. 
I guess FU find a better way. 

I hate to work, — don't you? 
Above all, when you've gone and got 

A bully plan in view. 

Now every time we have it fixed 

To meet down at the zoo 
My mother comes a-sailin' in. 

With forty things to do. 



26 HEART PANGS 

I know she's tired, poor Mother dear, 
I guess I just won't mind. 

What if I had no mother 'tall 
To speak to me so kind? 

I wonder now if my Pa worked 

When he was small like me! 
I'll bet, not much, — for even now 

He's lazy as can be. 
Says: "Mary, you do this, or that." 

It puts me in a rage 
To see my Ma obey a man 

Who's just about her age. 

Well, this ain't dyin' — But I guess 

I'd better wait till spring; 
I think a grave is nicer when 

Flowers cover everything. 
So I'll run home and help my Ma, 

And mind the baby, — good; 
And maybe Pa'll forget he's tired 

And carry in that wood. 



THE NEW GIRL AT SCHOOL 

I THINK I'm going to cry real hard: 
My throat feels full of lumps; 

My heart keeps hurting dreadfully 
And giving frightful thumps. 

I know I'm only eight years old 
But tell me what you'd say, 



HEART PANGS 27 



If some girl with a freckled face 
Had took your beau away. 

The road seems awful long and rough 

Now when I go to school, 
And I don't seem to care to look 

Into the shady pool; 
For there was where we went to fish, — 

You called me *lovely" there, 
And said no girl looked sweet to you 

Whenever I was near. 

All that was but a month ago, — 

Before she came to town; 
And now you smile at her and say 

You're glad you turned me down. 
I know what Fll do. Mister Smart: 

ril tell Fred Brown on you; 
And you'll feel most as sad as me 

When your eye's black and blue. 

Now I heard Miss Smith tell Mamma,— 

She's single and forlorn, — 
That nothing could make up to her 

For her love put to scorn. 
And Freckle-face, I'll pull your hair 

And make you rue the day 
You ever came to this old town 

And took my beau away. 



28 HEART PANGS 



VIOLETS IN DEW 

SwEET^ dreamy smile so loving and wistful, 

Sweet rosebud mouth just made for a kisS; 
Dear gentle voice, whose cadence enraptures, — 

All those sweet charms how greatly Fd miss ! 
Sweetheart, lean near to me. Let me delight in 

Lovers radiant sunshine in your face so true, 
While my heart brims with perfect contentment 

As I gaze in your eyes, — sweet violets in dew. 

Sweet little hand, I bless and caress you; 

Dear hair that prisons the sun in each curl, — 
No gold could buy them, yet you have entrusted 

Them to my keeping, you dear, precious girl. 
Darling, the world would be full of darkness 

But that your presence will make my dream true ; 
For my heart knows that it has found its haven 

When I gaze in your eyes, — sweet violets in dew. 



PERFECT LOVE CAN NEVER DIE 

'Tis a lonely month of autumn. 

Falling leaves are whirling round, 
Making for our feet a carpet. 

As they thickly strew the ground ; 
Dusk has fallen. What care we, dear? 

Light still gleams, love, from your eyes: 
'Tis the light of stars and sunbeams; 

'Tis the light all lovers prize. 



HEART PANGS 29 



Stopping oft along the pathway 

Where the oaks and maples bend, 
Thus the hours, once long and lonely, 

With my sweetheart now I spend. 
Father Time, turn back the moments! 

Do not make us old and gray; 
Let us bask in lovers' heaven, 

Young and care-free as to-day. 

Ah, alas! that cry is useless; 

Time will never pass us by. 
So, dear heart, we must be steadfast. 

Love each tear, each mournful sigh. 
Vain the wish to be young always; 

But our love, dear, ever new. 
Will remain the same sweet story, — 

Young or old, our love is true. 

So, old Time, swing on your cycle! 

Death will find us side by side. 
Just as we were that dear evening 

When I took you for my bride. 
Vanish youth, and pass our beauty, 

Riches, too, may from us fly, — 
What of that? We have our treasure: 

Perfect love can never die! 



I LOVE YOU 

Dearest of all, lean near while I whisper 

The words that have often been whispered before 

By lovers in palace, or in humble cabin, — 
Where'er there are beings that fondly adore: 



30 HEART PANGS 

I love you ! Those words, — how they ring on the heart- 
strings ! 

They make of a coward a man the most bold: 
That sigh of contentment as you nestle up nearer 

Means more to your lover than riches untold. 

Lean near while I plan the dear home I will build you. 

How your presence will lighten and brighten each 
room! 
Grim sorrow will fade when your smile beams upon me, — 

'Twould make me a heaven where once had been gloom. 
Nay, turn not your head, my fair queen of girlhood! 

The blush on each cheek only adds to your charm. 
I love you! 'tis said, and I see no just cause, dear. 

To turn from the one that would shield you from harm. 

I love you, dear eyes full of laughter and teardrops; 

Dear mouth with a pout like a small baby's own ; 
Dear hands, soft and gentle, I need you to comfort 

The home where I purpose my queen to enthrone. 
Each word as it falls from your lips, my own treasure, 

Is laden with gold, gems, and jewels most rare; 
I shall store them away in my heart, while I gloat on 

The other rich gold, — of your long, silky hair. 

I love you! Time never can change those three words, 
love. 

E'en dying, Fd murmur them, dear, o'er and o'er. 
Remember, my life is in your gentle hand, dear; 

And tell me you'd grieve, love, to see me no more. 
Ah! ah! you have spoken! You love me! What 
gladness ! 

Just say those words slowly, I scarce understand, — 
While this ring of betrothal I place on your finger, 

And cover with kisses my darling's fair hand. 



HEART PANGS 31 



A TRAITOR'S WORTH 

"How much IS he worth?" is your question. 

Ah me, child, how little you know ! 
Draw closer your dress as you pass him, 

For your fame, dear, is spotless as snow ; 
And the eyes of that man you think noble 

Will win your heart from you, and then 
He will laugh as he turns coldly from you 

And leaves you alone in your pain. 

You are only a lily, poor girlie, — 

He will scornfully toss you aside : 
He, the one who has promised to shield you 

And make you his own cherished bride. 
How many he promised before you! 

Now some of them fill early graves. 
Ah, blossom, draw closer your petals 

Ere he blight them, — this vilest of knaves ! 

**How can he prove false?" did you say, dear? 

"In beauty he's like a Greek god. 
How can he win hearts just for pastime 

Then trample them into the sod? 
Must the innocent bear all the heartache. 

While the traitor finds cause for no sighs?" 
He sees no pale face full of anguish 

Nor tears, — shed for him, — in her eyes. 

What though he have gold by the millions ! 

His heart, dear, is covered with rust; 
His mind never reaches up higher 

Than pleasure, vain folly, and lust. 



32 HEART PANGS 

The mask, were it torn from his face, dear, 
Would show to the world his true worth. 

All people of honor turn from him 
And leave him alone in his mirth. 



CAUGHT IN THE SNARE 

Alone in the street, in the blinding snow, 
Hungry and shivVing and no place to go; 
Far away from her mother and dear country home — 
Sixteen! — and left in a city to roam! 
"Alone," did I say? Ah, again the scene scan: 
The space by her side is now filled by a man. 
A hand of the stranger is placed on her arm: 
''Come, child, to my mother; shell shield you from 
harm.'' 

"Oh, how can I thank you, kind stranger?" she cries; 
Her lovely lips tremble, tears well in her eyes. 
"I shall tell my dear mother of you when I write, — 
Of how you protected and saved me to-night. 
Oh, what a large house ! Does your mother live here ? 
I never dreamed, sir, that your home was so near. 
Please tell her Fm hungry. Oh, Mother will be 
So grateful that someone is caring for me. 

"Is she having a party? The lights are so bright! 
And how many ladies you have here to-night!" 
The door opens wider ; the lights how they flame ! — 
Another has entered that house of ill fame. 
Alas! 'tis no mother that child has found here. 
But a hard-hearted tyrant, whose voice she will fear. 



HEART PANGS 33 



O far-away mother, your child and your pearl 
Is merely another "red light district girl!" 
The tears that flow over those cheeks wan and cold, 
Are bought by the fiend who can lavish his gold. 
He dealeth in hearts, and he buys up the soul, 
Then laughs as he adds one more name to his scroll. 
Ah ! when will our country be free from this ban ? 
Work on, noble Menace, and win, — for you can! 



QUEEN OF MY HEART 

Alice my love, we have wandered together 

Through trials and blessings, through sunshine and 
rain ; 

Whatever the hardships, whatever the weather. 
Dear Queen of my Heart, never did you complain. 

Remember that day, as we strolled through the wildwood, 
Sweet flowers I twined in your long, silky hair. 

While you blushed like a rose as I tenderly asked you 
My pathway through life, dearest Alice, to share. 

Queen of my Heart, forty years now have found us 
As loving and true as we were on that day ; 

Your face is as fair, and your smile just as gentle, 
Queen of my Heart, though your hair now is gray. 

Our children are gone: we two are alone, dear; 

And it seems to make nearer those sweet days of old, — 
As we sit by the fireside and gaze in the embers, — 

Drawing closer the love that has never grown cold. 



34 HEART PANGS 

Dear Alice, we're "old," the young folks all tell us; 

But our hearts' youth will linger till all life is o'er; 
Then, your hand clasped in mine, well cross over the 
ocean 

And awake, young again, "on that beautiful shore." 



A LETTER TO SANTA 

Dear Santa Claus, I write to-day 

To tell you please to bring 
About a hundred different toys 

And many another thing: 
I want a horse with sweeping tail, 

A carriage and a sleigh, 
A big long knife, a new gun, too, 

To keep the thieves away. 

I think ril have a house on wheels. 

So I can wheel my mother 
And furniture, — ^just any day, — 

To one place, then another; 
You know, dear Santa, she is sick, — 

Ten years in bed she's lain. 
And it would never do to take 

Her in the snow or rain. 

I think that next I'll take a stick 

Of dynamite or two 
And see if I can't lick the Huns 

Just as the soldiers do ; 
The gun would come in handy then. 

And, Santa, please do bring 



HEART PANGS 35 

Much money for my mother dear, — 
Also a diamond ring. 

I think ril trouble you no more, — 

These few you will not mind,-— 
There's lots more that I want, but then, 

You see, Fm very kind 
So I. will let you guess the rest, — 

Fm sure you'll do it right; 
So now rU toddle off to bed 

Dear Santa Claus, good-night. 



LITTLE BROOK 

Little clear brook, of what are you singing 

All the day long as you bask in the sun? 
What makes you gurgle and seem full of pleasure? — 

The closer I watch you the faster you run. 
Please tell me your age, you wee, babbling brooklet. 

Tm six, and I bet you are older than L 
Are you older than Mamma, or Papa, or Grandma? 

Will you stay here the same if we, — every one, — die? 

Brook, can you feel my bare feet as I paddle 

And stir up your pebbles, and muddy you, too? 
If I wade in, will you gurgle and murmur, — 

Tell, babbling brooklet, just what will you do? 
How do you feel when boys sit on your banks here 

To catch your dear fishes and take them away? 
Don't you care nary bit when they throw stones into you ? 

Don't they hurt you at all? — Sweet little brook, say. 



36 HEART PANGS 

Dear little brook, I think 111 build o*er you 

A nice little bridge, so the boys then can cross 
And not make you muddy, my dear little brooklet, 

Or tear up the ferns and the sweet trailing moss. 
I know what it is to be muddy and dirty, 

"But boys never care," as I've heard Grandma say, 
Tm sure you'll be glad of that bridge, little brooklet; — 

111 run and ask Papa to build it to-day. 



KIND OLD BEN 

He sits alone on his doorstep now, 

His gray head bowed in his hand ; 
His poor old limbs are so very weak, 

'Tis all he can do to stand. 
He's old, sad-hearted, and lonely, too, 

Yet on all his fellow-men 
He sheds the light of his sweet, sad smile; 

And they call him *^Kind old Ben." 

The boys that pass by his humble home 

Are asked to linger awhile; 
With yarns of the hunt, the stream, and sea 

They sometimes an hour beguile. 
His good old wife has gone on before; 

He seems lost to his children's ken. 
For they send no word to show their love 

Of their father. Kind old Ben. 

The tears oft brim 'neath his lowered lids, 
But quickly he wipes them away; 



HEART PANGS 37 



For the grief he endures he hopes to hide 

Till the end of life's weary day. 
Uncared-for, hungry, and so forlorn, 

He sighs for some friend once again, — 
For the love of the fisherlads can't fill 

The lone heart of Kind old Ben. 

'Tis on a chilly December morn. 

And three young boys, passing along. 
Find Ben's door is open, — swinging wide, — 

And they query: "What can be wrong?" 
With words low-spoken and cautious tread. 

They enter to succor; but then 
They see earthly help is not needed now 

Any more by Kind old Ben. 

Upon some straw, in a corner piled, 

That kind old man lies still. 
While the wind and the rain through the broken 
panes 

With his gray hair have their will. 
A crust of bread lies close by his side, — 

No more is it needed now; 
For the last look of peace has settled there. 

Over Kind old Ben's cold brow. 

The fisherlads speed to their nearby homes; 

And their parents hasten to go 
To that sad scene of hunger and death. 

While they whisper: ''Can it be so? 
How could he have died thus, so near to us? 

We were glad to give," they vowed. 



38 HEART PANGS 

**But how offer help that was not asked? 
Yes; to beg he was too proud." 

So, lift him gently and tenderly; 

Set straight each bent old limb 
In the rough, unvarnished coffin that 

The county has furnished him. 
He is gone! Weep not; all is over now. 

But remember, perhaps now and then 
You may send some light to a living soul 

That is lonely, like Kind old Ben. 



MAN 

Forever wanting something he knows he cannot get, 

Forever teasing women, — that's a man! 
No matter how you coax him and tell him not to fret, 

He seems to like to worry all he can. 
If his shirt is full of starch, he says something very harsh : 

You declare you never heard his like before; 
If you tell him to be good, he says something very rude, 

Then he leaves the house and loudly slams the door. 

If the time would only come when a wife could have some 
fun 

And be treated just as in the days of old ! 
But, no matter how you try, he brings tears into your eye, 

And your heart with unfed love turns sick and cold. 
The world is turning round, everything is upside down 

The moment Mister Man comes in the door. 



HEART PANGS 39 



If you say: "My head aches, John," he says: "Is the 
dinner on?" 
If It isn't, he emits a fearful roan 

All the night and all the day he forever wants his way. 

Till you hesitate to call your soul your own; 
And, struggle as you may, you just cannot make him gay. 

For shedding sunshine is to him unknown. 
Oh ! a man's a grown-up boy, and he fails not to annoy ; 

But the slipper 'tis not meet that you apply; 
If you tell him he is wrong, he has swear-words good and 
strong. 

While the lightning fairly flashes from his eye. 

There is nothing you can do but your wedding-day to rue. 

While a dozen babies howl upon the floor: 
Yet you must be sweet and nice, if you wish now to entice 

The man you once expected to adore. 
He gave you all of this ; now he starves you for a kiss 

As he says: "Oh, go away! I'm too late now." 
And you think: This cannot last! Give me back my 
happy past! 

And you sadly count the wrinkles in your brow. 



WAR CLOUDS 

O WAR cloud, dark and full of gloom. 
With mammoth guns sent to destroy. 

Tell me from whence your honor comes ! 
To kill the gallant soldier boy! 



40 HEART PANGS 

Hast thou no other thing to do, 
That blood must be thy daily fare? 

What makes it your delight to fill 

A woman's heart with pain and care ? 

We beg for peace, down on our knees ! 

Our soldiers' lives we pray thee spare ; 
To see our boys go out to fight 

Is more, we feel, than we can bear. 
See Europe's blood-stained battle-field. 

With millions that there fought and fell ! 
Tell me, is there no honest way 

To save us from this warring hell ? 

A bugle's call, we know, is sweet 

When peace makes music sound most clear; 
But, ah ! the bugle's call is sad 

When war so dark is hovering near. 
Ah, womankind, lift up your voice ! 

Drive from our land this blight accursed. 
These warring fiends demand your child, — 

The babe you at your bosom nursed. 

You'll send them back? Yes, — shells of men! 

They marched so bravely forth to die. 
And then, with mind and health both gone. 

Maybe in padded cells they'll lie 
A mass of blood that once was man 

Is better far than living so— 
And yet you ask us to submit 

And, smiling, bid our soldiers: "Go!" 



HEART PANGS 41 



DOES IT MATTER TO YOU? 

Does it matter to you that Mother is old 

And her hard-working days should be o'er? 
She has shielded and cared for you with loving faith, — 

Now what do you ask of her more? 
Does it matter to you that she's often ill clad, 

While you wear the finest silk gown? 
Your time to repay all her care has arrived. 

Say ! How do you pay, — with a frown ? 

Does it matter to you, the high cost of food. 

While you waste every dollar on self? 
Your father is poor, — a hard worker, too, — 

Yet you dress like a daughter of pelf. 
Your college clothes swamp him, and weeping, he says: 

"Dear wife, I must mortgage our all. 
My fear is FU die long before I can pay. 

And the burden upon you will fall." 

Does it matter to you when he's borne away 

To the graveyard there, over the hill, — 
And Mother's left here to continue to work 

To meet every extra large bill? 
At last she breaks down, her health is all gone; 

Her dear home is taken away ; 
She is put on the town, that mother of yours, — 

That mother so old, worn, and gray. 

Does it matter to you that college friends now 
Turn away when they chance you to meet. 



42 HEART PANGS 

And whisper: *'Her mother's just a public charge, 
And her father, — he died in the street. 

She caused all of this, with her debts and fine clothes; 
We had loved her had she but been true ; 

But whoe'er on earth could love such a snob?" 
Those words, — they will matter to you! 



OUR JEWEL 

A DEAR little sunbeam came into our lives 

To brighten the long, lonely hours. 
And it seemed that the pathway that daily she trod 

Was ever bestrewn with fair flowers. 
Her face was so sunny, her heart was so light. 

She never was wicked or cruel; 
And so, we decided that it would be right 

To christen our little one "Jewel.'* 

We watched our dear baby to maidenhood grow. 

And loved her each day more and more; 
But the angel of death was now hovering near, 

And one night he stalked through our door: 
His pallid face told that to grief we were doomed; 

In vain did we mercy implore; 
He took our bright Jewel to Heaven above. 

Whence her voice comes to us evermore: 

"I am waiting, dear Father and Mother, up here 

To welcome you home, with my love; 
So do hot delay, but hasten, I pray, 
. To meet your bright Jewel above. 



HEART PANGS 43 

She's just the same sunbeam that brightened your home 
In the days that are now past and gone.'' 

How sad it will be if Jewel don't see 
Her father and mother safe home! 



. BILLIE BOY AND JOSEPH 

One day in May my Billie Boy 

Made up his mind to buy 
A real chameleon, so 'twould eat 

Up every ant and fly. 
He said: *1'11 name him ^Joseph,' for 

You know that it was he 
Who had a many-colored coat." 

And Joseph it should be. 

For many weeks Sir Joseph was 

To Billie as the sun, 
For watching his queer capers caused 

My Billie Boy great fun. 
It turned to red and then to green, 

To other colors, too; 
And Bill was sure that any coat 

For Joseph now would do. 

But on one brilliant August eve 
Poor Joseph met his death : 

I really hate to tell of it, — 
It almost takes my breath. 

Bill laid his pet upon his tie 
Of red and green and blue: 



44 HEART PANGS 

Joe tried to turn three hues at once, — 
Alas ! he burst in two ! 

And now my story's reached its end ; 

I lay aside my pen. 
I hope the next one Billie gets 

He'll kindly christen "Ben." 
Beloved, — that is what Ben means; 

And you will plainly see 
That such a one just couldn't croak 

And cause Bill misery. 



